


words once spoken

by Cephalopodsalad17



Series: make me think there’s some truth in it [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dubious Consent, HYDRA Trash Party, Implied/Referenced Torture, In ADDITION to all the rape/noncon, M/M, Multi, POV Outsider, Steve Rogers undercover as HYDRA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephalopodsalad17/pseuds/Cephalopodsalad17
Summary: Steve would like to murder all his coworkers and rescue the Winter Soldier. Unfortunately, he has a cover he has to maintain and a new STRIKE agent he has to introduce to the Winter Soldier Program.Set in the time skips between Ch. 90 and Ch. 92 of Undeniable Plausibility





	1. Chapter 1

Patrick had been an Agent of HYDRA for the better part of five years, and an Agent of SHIELD for less than one, when he was “recruited” to fill in for an injured agent on the all-HYDRA STRIKE team commanded by Brock Rumlow. The same one _Captain America_ worked with.

Pat wouldn’t say he had a crisis, exactly, but it was fucking _weird_ to show up for his first day of training with STRIKE and see _Captain America_ there. Even weirder to see _Captain America_ pull the Commander up from the sparing mat (without visible effort) and hear the Commander wheeze out a low _Hail HYDRA_. Instead of instantly murdering them all, Cap just leaned in closer and said his own quiet _Hail HYDRA_ in return before slapping Rumlow on the back to send him staggering off the mat while Cap turned to his next opponent. The other agents sparing throughout the room didn’t react at all.

Good thing Pat wasn’t up next to fight anyone. He was half-flattened with shock already.

What the everloving fuck was happening? Was this a weird stress-related dream before his actual first day with STRIKE? Had Patrick fallen into an alternate universe? Had someone found a way to make _Captain America_ cooperative long enough to put him through the latest brainwashing process?

The Commander caught Pat staring and grinned.

Sometime around the sixth match, something must have caught Cap’s attention. His head came up and turned toward the door and he frowned slightly. Pat choked on his sports drink as he watched _Captain America_ almost distractedly put Agent Rollins down hard enough to drive the air out of him.

Cap winced slightly. Then, to Commander Rumlow, he said, “That seems fast.”

It was the second thing Pat had heard him say after that incomprehensible “Hail HYDRA” and sounded so much like… _Captain America_ … that Pat had to swallow hard. He only ended up with more Gatorade going down the wrong way, but that didn’t matter because he almost had a heart attack when Cap came over to pound him on the back with an enormous supersoldier hand. Pat was positive he was going to bruise.

“You okay, kid?” _Captain America_ asked him.

Pat could only splutter and stare at Cap’s inhumanly perfect face until the Commander cleared his throat pointedly.

Fuck.

“Ugk,” Pat coughed. “Yes! Thank you! Captain Rogers, sir.”

 _Captain America’s_ eyebrows rose slightly as Pat tried not to wince. “Welcome to STRIKE, Agent,” he said, then leaned in close to Pat’s ear to murmur those improbable words again. “Hail HYDRA.”

“Hail HYDRA!” Patrick squeaked automatically. His heart pounded, but he wasn’t immediately struck dead or dragged away for interrogation. How was this possible?

Cap’s eyebrows rose further and a corner of his mouth pulled up into what Pat could only describe as a smirk. There was an almost mean edge to it that had definitely never been in any of the official footage or propaganda posters.

“Try to relax some before tomorrow, huh? Never know when we’ll be called out.” With that, he grabbed an unopened water bottle from the table on the side of the gym and headed for the lockers.

Pat looked wide-eyed at Commander Rumlow.

“Yeah, Cap’s okay,” said the Commander. “Which is a fucking miracle with how important he’s become.”

 _Captain America’s_ voice came back from the locker room. “Aw, shucks, Brock. My enhanced ears are burning. You know you’re _important_ to me too, right?”

Commander Rumlow _blushed_.

It wasn’t any of his business, so he wouldn’t say anything, but Pat really hoped Commander Rumlow wasn’t fraternizing with _Captain America_ , no matter that the idea of Cap taking HYDRA dick had been one of his recurring fantasies since puberty. The possible reality of it was awkward. Pat didn’t want to be imagining Commander Rumlow in those scenarios. He wasn’t _that_ gay, plus he’d have to work with the Commander. _Fuck_. He had to work with _both_ of them now. Patrick was _so screwed_.

“Important to _HYDRA_ ,” Rumlow hissed. He’d lowered his voice to just above a whisper, and it chilled Pat to know just how good those enhanced ears had to be for Rumlow to expect him to hear.

“That’s hurtful!” _Captain America_ called back. A locker banged closed.

There was a long pause in which Rumlow’s color returned to normal. “You know we had to bump your clearance up a little for you to work with my team. Rogers’ involvement is Need to Know only. Understood, Agent?”

“Yes, Commander,” Patrick said immediately. He understood perfectly. Like most active agents, he’d personally executed a few otherwise-loyal HYDRA associates with loose lips over the years. He didn’t want to share the same fate.

“Good,” said Rumlow. “Now let me walk you through working with our supersoldiers and then you can go home. Unless we’ve just come back from combat, we’re about half on-duty here and half on-call except for training and meetings. Captain Rogers is always on call for us and the Avengers, but we don’t take him on every mission. There’s a lot of escort and courier shit for Fury or the Secretary. High-value prisoner and artifact transport, that sort of thing. You’ll be with us for about ten weeks and then we’ll reassess. You’re on-call for the rest of this week. I suggest you hang around anyway and find out what you’re gonna do next week.”

Pat sort of knew that about STRIKE. “Yes, Commander.”

Wait, had the Commander said super _soldiers_? As in more than one? The old descriptions of HYDRA as a _rogue science division_ weren’t completely inaccurate even now. Maybe this Cap was a HYDRA-made clone? Could they do that? There wasn’t much he wouldn’t believe these days, even if Cap saying _Hail HYDRA_ stretched his credulity.

Twice! He’d said it _twice_!

Rumlow cleared his throat. “I’m gonna give you a rundown on the history of the program and then I want you to watch some footage and tell me what you think. If you can avoid acting like an idiot fanboy for five minutes, an outside perspective might even make you useful as more than another set of filled boots.”

Patrick hadn’t set out with any serious expectation of becoming HYDRA elite, but like hell was he going to pass up the opportunities HYDRA had given him. This stint with STRIKE might be temporary, but he’d make it count. Good things came to those who made themselves useful.


	2. Chapter 2

_“I don’t appreciate you testing me like that in front of the new agent, Brock.”_

_“Maybe I’m still not convinced about your change of heart?”_

_“And you think, what, that prompting me to say Hail HYDRA in front of the new guy is going to make me slip up and show my true colors?”_

_“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out they were still red, white, and blue, so what can I say?”_

_“I made my choice. To be with Bucky.”_

_“Yeah, Bucky. Sure. You’re a fucking broken record.”_

_“You mean I stand by what I said and I’m willing to repeat it.”_

_“_ Broken record. _It’s not him.”_

_A short laugh. “It_ is _as long as it’s mine.”_

_“That is some impressively fucked up logic, Cap.”_

_“Not. Actually. Stupid.”_

_“Just don’t come crying to me when you realize you’ve been deluding yourself.”_

_“I won’t.”_

 

According to Pat’s teammates, very good things apparently came to HYDRA agents who survived working with the asset. The Winter Soldier! The asset was as terrifying as it was hot. Pat had seen the footage of the supersoldier rebellion in Siberia. Conditioning or no conditioning, it didn’t exactly make him eager to get too close. Besides, wouldn’t any missions with the asset include _Captain America_ too? How could this possibly be a regular thing?

And what did it mean for what their team leaders had going on?

Before their first mission with supersoldiers, Pat gave in to his curiosity and asked one of the other agents. “ _Are_ they together?“

“Who?“

“Commander Rumlow and Captain Rogers.”

Her snickers caught the attention of the nearby agents. “Are you joking?”

Another agent leaned in. “Wait until you see Rogers with the asset!”

“Yeah. It’s a good fuck, but Rogers has gotten kind of weird about it. Possessive? And he’s not soft on it, but the asset looks at him like he’s giving it dinner and a movie instead of a quick fuck like the rest of us.”

“I thought maybe you were joking,” Patrick muttered.

Rollins laughed and said, “Did you think your physical was that thorough just for kicks? The team helps the handlers maintain the asset’s conditioning. Think of it as a perk to make up for the extra hazard.”

They finished going over the necessities and sat down to wait for their team leaders.

Captain America arrived first. A figure all in black climbed in after him and sat down without a word.

Pat tried not to stare at either of them too obviously and pay attention to what Cap was saying.

“The situation is developing. Black market arms convoy, possible alien tech, at least one possible enhanced. We’ll brief in detail closer to the site. Check your nonlethals.”

There was a flurry of activity. Patrick checked everything he had that fell into the stun category three times and ended up staring at the motionless black-clad weapon.

Rumlow arrived in the middle of preflight checks. “We’re to capture and interrogate anyone who looks like they might be useful.”

“But we’re not identifying ourselves or bringing anyone back. I briefed the asset when I picked it up.”

The Commander fixed Captain Rogers with a glare.

“You don’t have to remind _me_ of protocol. Just follow it.”

Rumlow went up to talk to the pilot and Captain America started to strap in with the rest of the agents.

He looked around as he sat down next to Rollins and his attention fell on Patrick. “Hey, Rumlow briefed you on the asset, right?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers.”

 

Patrick’s head swiveled between Commander Rumlow and Captain Rogers. Impossible as it seemed, _Captain America_ only nodded seriously, jaw set patriotically.

“Don’t underestimate how dangerous the asset can be,” he said, “You’ve seen the film from Siberia?”

Pat nodded. He wouldn’t be forgetting that anytime soon. Or what he’d seen on the mission. He’d thought he was a hardened Agent of HYDRA, but what the asset had done to the men they’d captured... He darted a look at the asset where it sat strapped into the van’s custom restraints. “Yes, Captain Rogers.”

“It does what we tell it to do,” Rumlow continued. “It doesn’t know you or care about you. It’s like a machine. It will go through you to complete an objective and it will kill you in a blink of an eye if it thinks you’re about to interfere with a mission or maintenance. Right now, you haven’t established any dominance.”

Captain America’s eyes rested on the asset. He was frowning slightly.

Rumlow looked at him. “You wanna tell him what happens when we get to our safehouse tonight, Cap? You think it was good enough today?”

One corner of Captain America’s mouth quirked up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s always good for me.” He turned back to Rumlow with raised eyebrows. “First mission with the asset, huh? Already?”

“We were a little extra careful with you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Tell him, Cap.”

Captain America sighed and looked at Pat, who froze like a mouse waiting for a hawk’s talons. “We have to re-establish physical dominance over the asset after missions so it doesn’t get ideas about turning on us. We’ll all fuck it. It’s been good today, so it gets to come. Only once and on a handler’s command.” He paused and looked at Rumlow, who nodded, and he reached for the asset, which leaned forward to meet him.

Rumlow said, “It’s the only time you touch it unless one of us gives you a direct order. We’ll clean up before we get to the party, so you’ll be seeing this later, but you’ve got the rest of the ride to decide not to have a problem.”

The mask was crusted with a combination of dust and drying blood. Captain America got it all over his fingers and gloves as he removed it. The soft look he directed at the asset made Pat a little queasy.

Then he saw the face and holy fucking hell the killing machine getting gangbanged after HYDRA missions was a fucking ringer for Bucky Barnes. Captain America had to know. There was no way he didn’t. Maybe Pat was onto something about the whole doppleganger thing and Cap wasn’t Cap or HYDRA’s brainwashing was even better than what he’d heard whispered.

“The asset takes cock the way it takes everything else. Compliantly. If it isn’t doing that, something is wrong and you let a handler know so we can deal with it. As far as you’re concerned, don’t go near it without Captain Roger or me giving the orders.”

Cap wiped his gloved hands on his dark blue pants the best he could and started peeling off his gloves. “Problem? Because I’m not keen on ordering an agent to perform sexual acts.” He caught Pat’s glance at the Winter Soldier. “The asset doesn’t count. It’s a thing made in a lab and designed to need this from us. It’ll get unstable if we don’t use it. Do you have a problem with that?”

Patrick shook his head rapidly. “No, Captain Rogers.”

“You’ll go last,” said the Commander. “Dominance is the point and you’re under us and over the asset.”

“I understand, Commander,” Pat said. _Fuck_. His tac pants were getting tight just thinking about it.

He was nervous, but he didn’t need time to decide. For one, he knew it wasn’t a real choice. He’d do it or he’d be dead on the next mission if not before. HYDRA didn’t tolerate weakness or noncompliance. For another, he needed all the time he could get to calm down enough to avoid embarrassing himself. He might have to kill _himself_ if that happened. Nothing could ruin this. He couldn’t believe he was going to fuck fake Bucky Barnes in front of maybe not fake Captain America. Pat definitely picked the right side.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Presumably, you survived reading Undeniable Plausibility before you got here. Hopefully that means you'll be fine, but there might be a couple things I should warn about, so please let me know if you think of them.
> 
> Pat's history includes what is at the very least dubiously consensual sex with people under chemical influence and also internalized homophobia and biphobia. You're probably here for the all the supersoldier objectification, but there's that too, just so you know.
> 
> The place they end up should probably be condemned, if it isn't already.

The safehouse was an ugly maze of oven-like bare concrete rooms and stained gray carpet curling orange-brown at the edges, but it had a slightly cooler below-ground level with a functional bathroom.

The door was missing with a single hinge sticking out an angle from the bottom of the left side. The bathroom wasn’t very large, maybe a six foot square. There was a grungy white-tiled floor with a large drain in the middle and a rusty metal showerhead attached to the far wall. Patrick looked at it with longing. He was dirty and sore, but mostly he felt like he’d been par-boiled. Obviously, there was a hierarchy that needed to be respected. Order had to be kept, despite any discomfort, or people would devolve into fighting over resources. Pat knew his place, and that meant looking to his superiors to make the decisions.

Not that there weren’t other reasons to watch. Pat resisted the urge to palm himself. Some people only got more attractive when they’d been roughed up a little. 

The Commander raised his eyebrows at Captain Rogers, who frowned a little. The Commander nodded at the open door frame. Captain America put one enormous hand on the asset’s back and ushered it into the bathroom. No way even half the team would fit in. Captain America and the Winter Soldier seemed to fill the space by themselves. 

The Commander looked at them for a few seconds before turning away. “I’m gonna go find a better place for us to fuck it,” he said. 

Captain America nodded and went to work on removing the gory tac suit the asset wore. Even in all black, it looked like it had rolled on the floor of a fucking slaughterhouse. 

Clearly that was the cue, because the rest of the team started stripping. Patrick quickly did the same, trying to look like he knew what he was doing. Their gear and what weapons hadn’t been left in the vans made filthy piles in the hallway. There was no carpet down here, so cleanup shouldn’t be too bad later. The STRIKE agents attended to a few missed injuries between them, mostly cuts that turned out to be deeper than previously thought or that started bleeding again once fabric was pulled away, but there was no real attempt made to ignore what they were all there for. 

Pat struggled to hide as much of the nervousness he was feeling as he could. The looks Patrick received were more challenging than reassuring. It was one thing to be told that you were the bottom of the hierarchy, but another to remember being told that while you were standing around naked with a half-chub that couldn’t decide if it was growing or fading.

Patrick had had girlfriends. Nothing long-term. Nothing serious. One night stands too. He’d sort of had a couple times when he’d fucked guys who were drunk or high enough that they didn’t get off before Pat was done. He’d never worried about being good at it, only getting himself off and extracting himself before anyone noticed who might remember him.

He was going to have to stick it in the asset with the whole team watching, including his superiors. Yeah, he was definitely a bit nervous about that. Wouldn’t be his preference. He tried not to wonder what they’d do to him if he couldn’t perform. Either he’d embarrass himself by coming after a few thrusts or he’d be stuck there, center of attention, as he struggled. Not to mention that the Winter Soldier was _terrifying_. What if it didn’t like something he did and it turned violent? He had no doubt it was good for Rumlow and Cap. Rumlow was tough and Pat had heard stories of how mean he could get, and who wouldn’t be good if Captain America was responsible for disciplining them? He was the sunshine and propaganda version of the Winter Soldier, merciless and immortal. The worst nightmare of whoever he turned his strength against. Pat didn’t know how he’d ended up with HYDRA, but he didn’t doubt that he saw the STRIKE agents as disposable. Expendable. It was in his eyes and the way that he rarely used names, except with Rumlow. 

Give Pat a set of supersoldier-proof restraints, maybe some good drugs, and a trusted weapon within reach and he’d happily go to town on the sweet muscular ass that had just been revealed. Like this? He wasn’t so sure.

Captain America was stripping now, kicking his stealth suit into a heap outside the door. He twisted the shower on. The pipes gurgled ominously before orange-brown water began to spray all over the room. The asset, standing fully exposed with its tangled hair curtaining its downturned face, didn’t react, but Cap jerked out of range and quickly angled the showerhead at the wall until the water began to run clear.

Almost involuntarily, Pat found himself wondering if Captain America ever bottomed. Not for the asset, obviously, but maybe for Rumlow or for the real Bucky Barnes back when Cap had been weak and tiny. There had to be _someone_ he submitted to or how could he be this trusted? He wasn’t a Head, so who put Captain Rogers in his place? Pat flinched away from the horrifying mental image of Cap bent over Pierce’s desk. Maybe the Red Skull had caught him and secretly fucked him into compliance during World War Two? That was an old fantasy from back when Pat had been masturbating to the comics and this sort of thing had all felt safe and fictional. 

Maybe that was the real Bucky Barnes letting Captain America soap him up and HYDRA had used him to turn Cap before the famous rescue. 

Pat’s cock was definitely growing now. He pressed the heel of a hand against himself and did his best to play it cool. 

He wasn’t the only one watching Captain America lather up the Winter Soldier with a handful of pale green foam from an incongruous plastic dispenser on the wall. 

For its part, the asset had its head tipped back and its eyes squeezed shut and was leaning heavily on its handler, giving its body over entirely. With its hair slicked back, the face was unmistakably that of Bucky Barnes, only Howling Commando Cap had lost in action. Captain America had his head tilted toward it in a way that made it look like he whispering into its ear, although Pat couldn’t hear anything above the water and the noises the other agents made. 

The female agent Pat had asked about Rumlow and Rogers caught Pat’s eye and nodded meaningfully at the supersoldiers across the hallway. 

Pat nodded and she looked triumphant, maybe a little _I-told-you-so_ smug. The other female agent was watching them openly with fingers moving between her own legs. A couple of the other guys were handling themselves too.

The tiles in the bathroom were white, which made it easy to see how the standing water was an orange pink color with swirls of grey suds as Cap scrubbed off black paint from around the asset’s eyes. Pat watched his muscles flex like something out of a porno.

Commander Rumlow came stomping back down the hallway. 

“This safehouse is worse than the one in Perth,” he snarled, sounding both pissed and resigned. “Sure it’s got room to conceal the vehicles and any number of agents or prisoners, but that’s it. That’s all there is here. Good thing we brought our own supplies because all I found was a can of fossilized coffee beans.”

Captain America let go of the asset and stepped away from it while it swayed back under the spray, letting its head fall forward again. Pat tried not to stare below Cap’s chest. It was a good chest to stare at. Nicer tits than the last girl he’d fucked.

“You gonna compose a one-star Yelp review or tell us what you found?” A weird flicker of satisfaction passed over Cap’s face.

Rumlow glared at him for a moment before almost physically getting a grip on his irritation. 

They were all tired and uncomfortable, except perhaps Cap. It had been a long drive after the ambush and interrogation. Pat wondered how much fucking the asset had to do with giving the whole team a reason to keep themselves under control instead of just conditioning the asset to submit to them. In the end, he didn’t really care why. He just wanted it over with. The fantasy of fucking Bucky in front of Cap wasn’t that appealing in the moment when it was real.

“Not enough space in the bathroom, and honestly, I don’t know that anyone not a supersoldier should be barefoot on that tile.”

Captain America shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m trying not to think about it,” he admitted. 

The water running into the drain was clearer now, which only highlighted how disgusting the floor was underneath.

“No beds,” said the Commander.

“Hmm,” replied Captain Rogers.

“Probably have bedbugs anyway,” muttered Rollins, distracting from a tension Pat hadn’t noticed growing between their superiors as they broke eye contact simultaneously to look at the rest of the team, like they’d just remembered them.

“Well, we might have to take that risk anyway. I think I found an employee lounge or something. That’s where the coffee was,” the Commander explained. “Couple couches. No pull-out, but it’ll have to do.”

Captain America’s expression was pinched in what was probably disappointment. Patrick noticed because he was looking at his face and not any lower body parts. Because that would be weird. 

“So you want to fuck it over a possibly bedbug-infested couch,” said Captain America, after an awkwardly long pause. His lips twisted. “Why not just take it over the hood of one of the vans?”

“And explain the burns to Tech?” the Commander laughed. “No thanks.”

“It would sure make it keep position, but you have a point. And I didn’t really think about it until now,” said Cap, “but we don’t have any towels here.”

“Better not to let things set, I suppose. There’s gotta be something in the vans.”

Eager to do something other than stand around in the hallway and hope he looked more comfortable with the situation than he was, Pat volunteered to go find the towels. He nearly tried to put his pants back on, but the looks the other agents gave him warned him not to cover up.

When he got back with a bag full of compressed towels, the Commander had joined Cap and the Winter Soldier in the bathroom and was scrubbing his hands through his damp hair. The water was running gray again. Pat tried not to see anything. Cap and the asset were one thing. They were unreal. Looking at Commander Rumlow was crossing a line. 

Cap had done his washing up and was outside of the bathroom, crouched over his discarded uniform, searching it for something. A little wider spread and Captain America’s asshole would be on display to the whole team. How was this Pat’s life now? 

Straightening, Cap revealed the object in his palm to be a small cylindrical white bottle, which Pat thought was probably lube. He hoped so, anyway.

“I found the towels,” he mumbled. No one spared him a glance, so he shifted from foot to foot in the doorway, waiting.

When Cap went back into the shower, the asset’s eyes tracked his hands intently, more engaged than Pat had seen it since before it had started cutting answers out of their prisoners. 

“Rinse again for me, Soldier,” ordered Captain America. 

The asset did, careful not to touch Rumlow, before returning to stand in front of Cap like a dog waiting for a treat. 

Cap twisted the lid off the bottle and tapped it into his opposite palm. “Turn and lower your head.”

Wait, its head?

It complied quickly enough that the floor squeaked under its heel. 

Dropping the bottle, he stepped up behind it and rubbed his hands together before working his fingers into the asset’s hair. 

It didn’t make a real sound, but Pat realized he could hear it breathing, slow and deliberate. 

“Really, Cap? That better not be that rose shit from that hotel.”

“Rose and _honey_ conditioner,” Cap responded. “I figure it’ll win some points with the Tech Team to bring it back with silky soft hair.”

“Oh, it’s got _honey_. That makes all the difference. You’re full of shit, Steve.” Rumlow’s tone was accusing. “You just like petting it."

“Sure, Brock. This is my new idea of foreplay,” retorted Captain America.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no post! Sorry. Life happened.

Patrick choked on air.

The noise finally got him some attention.

“Give me one of those,” the Commander ordered.

The asset was braced against the wall with its metal arm while its right stretched itself open with practiced motions. Its expression was set and distant. There was a small gray and white packet in its left hand, torn open. Lube.

Very aware of his cock again, Pat passed Commander Rumlow a small dry cube of white towel, then swallowed and looked away. This was happening. The Winter Soldier, who looked like Bucky Barnes, was preparing himself, _itself_ , to be gangbanged by the whole team, including Captain America. Pat would push his cock into that hole while his superiors watched.

The clench in his gut wasn’t completely pleasant.

He wondered if anyone would say anything about his performance and swallowed again, tasting the dust from the mission at the back of his throat.

“I’ll take one for me and one for the asset,” said Cap.

Pat jerked his head up and fumbled with the bag. He avoided eye-contact as he handed over the towels. Watching the brisk rubdown Cap gave himself and the Soldier was enough to get his cock interested again. The soldier didn’t stop fingering itself until its handler stepped back.

"Enough, Soldier.”

It straightened at once, eyes darting between Cap’s eyes and mouth.

Maybe it was having trouble hearing for some reason? Had it been caught in an explosion during the op? He couldn’t believe it was looking at Cap the way a man might. Like it wanted to ki-

Rumlow strode past them, snapping orders. “Rogers. Soldier. With me. The rest of you get cleaned up before you join us. Rookie, tradition says the last two out do the cleanup after we finish with the asset. Now, _move_.”

Then the three of them were gone and there was an immediate scramble for the available space.

 

_“Fuck. I needed that.”_

_“What, are you done already?”_

_“Damn supersoldiers. You should fuck its ass when you’re done with its mouth. The rest of the team won’t mind watching.”_

_“You just want the new guy to see me do it.”_

_“It’s always risky bringing in someone new, so, yeah, I bet it’ll hook him real good to enjoy your sloppy seconds.”_

_A grunt. “Oh, so that’s what it’s about. You want me to take_ your _sloppy seconds. Get your come all over my dick and mix us up together in the asset? Stop, Soldier. Go clean Rumlow up. I need a moment if I’m gonna fuck you again.”_

_“Jesus, Rogers. Are we rubbing off on you or have you been watching porn on your downtime? No, Soldier, slow down. You in a hurry or something? Don’t answer that.” A quiet groan. “Yeah, that’s right.”_

_“No one’s rubbing off on me. That’s against the rules, Brock, remember?”_

_“Yeah, that’s what the asset’s for. And I see what you’re trying to do, so knock it off.”_

_“Does that mean I win?”_

_“I’d say go fuck yourself,_ Steven _, but-”_

_A huff of laughter. “But that’s what the asset is for. Speaking of… Soldier. Are you ready for me?”_

_“Always, Captain Rogers. Please fuck me.”_

_“Why does it always sound less creepy when it’s begging_ you _and not the rest of us?”_

_“Because it’s… my Bucky.”_

_“Nah, it just knows what you like.”_

_“Please, Captain.”_

 

“Please, Captain,” said a rough voice, proving they’d found the right place before they found the right door.

Standing by the bathroom door had really paid off because now Pat was close to the front of the pack when they reached the party.

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes glued to the action.

Rollins snorted and pushed him into the room. “Hey. Don’t block the door.”

Pat tried not to stumble as he took his cue from the other agents and found a spot at the edge of the room between a brass floor lamp and a cluster of other agents. They rolled their eyes or snickered at him when he narrowly avoided tripping over a cobweb-covered spool of extension cord.

Commander Rumlow was stroking the asset’s neck absently while it sucked his cock. His other hand was buried in its shiny wet hair. He didn’t look embarrassed or anything as the rest of the team came in.

Pat barely noticed because that was _Captain America_ holding the Barnes-look-alike’s hips with one hand and lining up his intimidating erection with the other. “How is this real?” he breathed.

Commander Rumlow and Captain Rogers had the Soldier on its knees in the middle of the most solid-looking couch. It was kneeling on one of the towels they’d used to dry off, clean white a stark contrast with the stained brown and yellow geometric pattern of the couch. It had its hands clasped behind its back and its neck extended over the low blocky backrest. Pat supposed that was the best position to keep the furniture from falling over or anything. It definitely wouldn’t be the easiest or most comfortable for the Winter Soldier. Not that that mattered.

“I ask myself that fucking question every time we do this,” said one of his teammates. “Hail HYDRA, am I right?”

“Yeah,” mumbled Pat. He stared as Cap began to push in, fingers digging into the asset’s firm butt. Its sides heaved in a sudden deep breath as the supersoldiers’ hips came flush together. “Hail HYDRA.”

Rumlow used the long dark hair in his grip to pull the asset off his limp cock before stepping away. “Okay, Soldier. Now we’re all here, tell us what this party’s all about.”

“I’m required to submit to maintenance of my conditioning.”

“How do we do that?”

“My handlers must routinely demonstrate physical and sexual dominance over me to insure continued compliance and team safety. Desirable behaviors may be reinforced with rewards of physical pleasure. Undesirable behavior may be discouraged by pain.”

The asset sounded like it had just had its throat fucked, but also kind of tired? Pat wondered if felt fatigue the way humans did or if this was simply boring and routine. It was kind of hot that it could be so used to this.

“Is your pleasure important?” _Captain America_ questioned it.

The asset answered promptly. “Only as a reward for the purpose of reinforcing my conditioning. Demonstrating desirable behavior and being rewarded is better than demonstrating undesirable behavior and requiring pain.”

Commander Rumlow stared at Cap as he asked, “Have you earned a reward today?”

“I don’t decide,” said the asset. Then it added, tentatively hopeful, “Captain Rogers said yes.”

“That’s right,” said the Commander, looking back at it. “You’ve earned it. Now what are the rules?”

“I’m not permitted to touch myself or climax without direct permission.”

“Good. Who are you?”

“Asset. Winter Soldier.”

“What are you?”

“HYDRA’s creation. Yours to use.”

Shit, that _was_ hot. Patrick wondered if it sounded like Bucky Barnes and, if so, what Captain Rogers thought about it saying things like that with his voice.

“That’s right,” said Rumlow. “Jack, you’re up. I’ve already had my fun.”

Rollins was already hard before the asset dipped its head towards his crotch, and Pat looked away, wondering how everyone else was acting so un-self-conscious. He shifted from foot to foot on the thin carpet and resisted the urge to hide himself.

“Come on, Cap,” said the Commander. “If you’re gonna take another turn, you gotta give us a good show.”

Another turn? He’d come once already? Pat figured that had to be a supersoldier thing and almost let his thoughts spin off into a fantasy except for the fantasy being played out right in front of him.

Cap shot Commander Rumlow a glare. In a tight voice, he said, “Well, sure, but I’d hate to take credit for _your_ great idea, Brock. Soldier. Give me your hands.”

If the Commander said anything in return, Pat wasn’t paying attention.

The asset unclasped its hands and let Cap grab them. He immediately used them as leverage to start thrusting. The asset made a muffled noise around Rollins as it struggled to stay put. Cap wasn’t pulling hard but Pat guessed balancing between two cocks on its knees on an unstable surface like that was probably as difficult as it looked.

He looked around. More or less everyone else looked visibly aroused, watching hungrily. Even the Commander was stroking himself again, eyes fixed on where Cap was sliding in and out of that stretched and shiny hole. Pat understood. The big cock _glistened_ under the slightly inadequate incandescent lights - seriously, when had this place last been used or updated? - like he’d already shot one load in there. Maybe he had, but he didn’t think the asset’s hole could have tightened up again _that_ fast and it had clearly been an effort for it.

“How is it?” Rumlow asked, weirdly demanding.

Captain Rogers laughed, a little breathlessly. “It’s the asset. So it’s fucking fantastic.”

Oddly, the Commander scowled at this.

Cap laughed again before squeezing his eyes shut and returning his focus to where it really belonged. He curled over the Soldier’s back and brought up its right hand to press a quick kiss to its knuckles before driving into it at a faster pace.

If Pat was balls deep in that incredible body, he didn’t think he’d stop for conversation or kisses.

Oh, no. Oh, _fuck_. He _would_ be. This had all seemed much more doable before everyone had gotten naked and he’d seen Captain America’s cock. Not to mention Cap’s obvious coveting of the Winter Soldier-possibly-Bucky-Barnes. _Damn it._ He could totally feel his half-chub shrinking.

Fuck, they were hot together, though. He could focus on that. Had Cap been fucking Bucky Barnes during World War Two? Maybe he’d found Barnes taking it from both ends in the Kreischberg factory and gone HYDRA so he could join in. Barnes could have sold his body to HYDRA for any number of reasons once his unit had been captured. Who cared if it made sense or not. Pat was _watching it happen_.

Another agent replaced Rollins. Maybe that was the way to go? A blowjob had to be easier than following Cap’s performance. Pat wondered if he’d have a choice, then deliberately pushed the thought away and focused on how both supersoldiers’ muscles worked to keep them in balance with the agent using the asset’s mouth.

For some reason, he hadn’t expected the asset to be such an active participant, but it clearly was. It moved its head and rocked its hips back to meet Captain America’s thrusts. It made sense for it to enjoy its reward, but wasn’t an orgasm supposed to be its actual reward while the gangbang was for conditioning? Pat wasn’t disappointed. He was just kind of confused. Then again, since the asset was so dangerous, it made sense to condition it to submit eagerly.

Cap’s whole face scrunched up when he came. He looked like his orgasm was painful, and maybe it was, because he didn’t pull out immediately, or drop the asset’s hands, only stood there breathing deeply, still buried in the asset. Finally, he sighed and said, “Asset. Position.” He released both hands at once as he pulled out and backed away a few careful steps.

Once its hands were free, the Winter Soldier flexed its metal hand once before it clasped its hands back together like its flesh and blood hand was actually a magnet.

“Good Soldier,” said Captain Rogers, blinking heavily. He kind of looked like he wanted to sit down.

“Well?” Rumlow prompted the room.


End file.
